Cupid Crystal Cave
by Winterblume
Summary: Hermione is forced into a strip club and – oh, how embarrassing – who would show up there? Of course, none other than her old school nemesis, Tom Marvolo Riddle.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Cupid Crystal Cave

 **Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

 **A/N:** This is AU. So stuff is going to be weird. Just flow with it, okay? ;) basically, Tom Riddle was born years later than in canon and went to school with Harry, Ron and Hermione. He's still and ass, though, so not that much changed.

So far, this is a two-shot. Maybe I'm gonna write a third chapter, but I'm not sure about that yet.

This fic is dedicated to **pumpkin-dream** , my tumblr buddy, who came up with the plot idea. So yeah… if this sucks, go blame her hehehe

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 **Cupid Crystal Cave**

 _Oh boy_ , Hermione thought as she stood in front of the garishly illuminated building. There was a large neon sign in form of a blinking heart shot through by an arrow. Right below that was another neon sign announcing the name of this establishment in twirly writing:

 _Gilderoy's_

 _Cupid Crystal Cave_

Whoever came up with that stupid name for a strip club needed to get slapped in the face. Hermione's nose crinkled with consternation and she wanted to turn on her heels and leave at once. If only she could. Hermione sighed tiredly. She really really didn't want to go in. This wasn't her kind of thing; she shouldn't even be here. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do but to resign herself to her fate. Grudgingly, Hermione walked towards the club's entrance.

"Hermy!" Someone latched on her arm, hugging her enthusiastically. "Hermy. This is awesome. You're my bestest friend in the whole world."

The drunken statement was accompanied by a wet kiss on Hermione's cheek. A grin worked its way on her face. Hermione turned her head and looked down at a very drunk Ginny. Her eyes were glassy and a wide smile split her face. By now Ginny's hair flew wildly, somehow still managing to look fantastic, and was barely tamed by the plastic tiara on top of her head. Miraculously, the flaming red hair didn't even clash with the pink shirt she was wearing. Hermione reached for her friend and gently adjusted the sash that hung over her shoulder, proudly proclaiming: _Hens Night_ and, in a larger font, _Bride-to-be_.

"Yeah." Another arm was wrapped around Hermione's shoulders. "Didn't think you had it in you. A strip club?" 

Hermione turned to Parvati who smirked up at the large neon heart, mirroring the expression on her twin's face exactly. Padma giggled and agreed with her sister, "Yes, you more than fulfilled your role as maid-of-honour."

"Yesh!" Ginny yelled into Hermione's ear, hugging her tightly.

Before Hermione could reply anything a dreamy voice butted in, "I heard some strip clubs are haunted by Knats. Maybe we're lucky and see one."

Hermione chuckled softly. Luna was steadying a rather drunk Alicia while she interestedly eyed the club with her large silvery eyes. Ginny smiled along, staggering drunkenly where she stood.

"You're the most awesomest maid-of-honour, Hermyninny."

Hermione smiled at her friend. "I'm glad you're having a good time."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. Alicia seemed to wake from her drunken stupor and added teasingly, "Yeah. Don't forget, after this your life as an unmarried woman's over. Done with. No fun for you anymore."

Ginny tried to throw Alicia an evil eye, but instead broke down into giggles. She seized Hermione by the arm and announced,

"Let's go in, yes?"

Hermione still wasn't overly enthusiastic about entering a strip club, but allowed Ginny to pull her towards the entrance. After all, this was Ginny's hens night and Hermione wanted her friend to have as much fun as possible.

ooOOHGTROOoo

The interior of the club was exactly what Hermione had expected. The light was dimmed and music blared from huge speakers. A dancefloor in one corner of the club invited the guests to dance, while handsome barkeepers stood behind a large bar, serving fancy drinks. The main attraction, though, were neither the dancefloor nor the drinks (although they were consumed in great quantities). Throughout the club, several round tables were strategically placed. Some had a dancing pole others didn't, but on all of them stood half-naked men, dancing to the music, showcasing their fit bodies. Occasionally, they ripped a piece of clothing from their bodies, eliciting cheers from the women that flocked around the respective table.

Hermione blinked at the spectacle. This really wasn't her type of thing. Her friends seemed to be off another opinion. Ginny laughed happily and dashed over to one of the strippers. Luna, Alicia, Padma and Parvati followed her, all smiling widely. Hermione, on the other hand, decided to push her way through to the bar. She really needed something to drink. She wasn't nearly drunk enough for this yet.

"Vodka sour, please," Hermione ordered her drink and happily welcomed the glass as the barkeep slid it over to her.

Holding her glass, she meandered away from the bar. Her gaze sought out her friends. By now, they stood at one of the tables, ogling the handsome man dancing for them. Hermione chuckled softly as she watched their happy faces. They certainly were having a good time. She was glad the hens do was a success.

Hermione didn't join her friends, though, feeling quite exhausted already. All night, she had guiltily hidden her dejected mood from her friends. She didn't want to ruin the fun her friends were having. After all, Ginny was the most important person and she deserved the best night ever. Hermione was glad that no-one had noticed anything wrong with her, but she was far from being in a mood to celebrate.

Holding on to her drink, she stepped away from all the commotion and sat down at one of the tables. This one hosted no stripper and was quite abandoned. Hermione preferred it this way. With dull eyes she looked down at her vodka sour. Her fingers nestled with the straw. She couldn't help it as once again her thoughts wandered to the night three days ago. The memory made Hermione's chest tighten painfully and she took a hearty swig from her drink.

 _Why didn't he just tell me?_

Hermione couldn't believe it had ended like that. It was so strange. She had never even considered that they _wouldn't_ make it. The end had crept up on her and she'd been too stupid to notice …until it'd hit her in the face.

 _How could he do that to me?_

Merlin, Hermione yearned to tell her best friend – she needed someone to talk to –but she couldn't bother Harry with this. Not when he was going to get married in a few days. Hermione was not going to trouble him with her problems. On top of that, Ron was his best man. No. No, Hermione couldn't tell anyone. She'd only spoil the good mood. They'd find out soon enough anyway. Hermione's stomach flopped. She'd show up to the reception without a date, all on her own, while Ron had… while Ron…

Hermione left the unpleasant thought hanging and glanced over to her friends. A small smile stole on her face. Ginny sat on a chair while one of the strippers gave her a solo performance, bent over her, rubbing his barely clothed crotch over her leg. Ginny laughed, eyes glinting, and playfully ran her hands over the stripper's hard biceps. Parvati and Padma cheered her own, both laughing happily, while Alicia was busy making mooneyes at her own stripper. Meanwhile, Luna sat at a table and was in a seemingly serious conversation with another barely clothed man. He hung from her lips, eyes wide, and listened with rapt fascination.

Hermione averted her eyes from her friends and tiredly rubbed her temples. She really needed to get a grip on herself. A break-up wasn't the end of the world. She'd get over this. Eventually. It was just all so disappointing. Maybe she should've just cursed Ron as she'd caught him with his pants down, so to speak. In the end, though, it wouldn't have changed anything. Uncomfortably, Hermione wondered if Ron would bring his new flame to the reception. She pulled a face at the thought. If she'd never see Ron or Lavender ever again, it wouldn't be too soon.

Hermione's inner rant was rudely interrupted as suddenly a man climbed on the table she was sitting at. She could only just save her vodka sour from getting trampled on. Disgruntled, she glared up at the man. He wore a garishly red suit. His blonde hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and a big smile on his face revealed pearly white teeth.

"Ladies, may I have your attention?" the entertainer guy boomed, obviously a Sonorous Charm amplifying his voice.

Attracted by this, a few patrons wandered over to Hermione's table. Disgruntled, Hermione sipped from her drink. Maybe she should get a bit away from this. The entertainer smiled charmingly at his audience and continued,

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am happy to be able to welcome so many beautiful guests tonight."

By now, more and more rather inebriated women flocked around the table, smiling and giggling. This was unfortunate because Hermione was now trapped in the crowd, right at the front. _Nice_ , thick sarcasm echoed through her head and she took another gulp from her drink. Meanwhile, Lockhart's voice boomed over the cacophony of drunken laughter,

"I hope you're all having a good time tonight?"

At that the women cheered their agreement. Hermione resigned herself to her fate and slumped back in her chair. Big grin in place, Lockhart bowed to his audience and announced,

"I recommend you all sit back, have a cold drink and enjoy this night's _climax_."

His last word reduced his female audience to intoxicated giggles, whoops and catcalls. Hermione could only roll her eyes. Regrettably, now that she was imprisoned between drunk women, she'd have to sit this through. Glaring darkly at the entertainer guy, Hermione downed the last rest of her vodka sour. Then she signalled to one of the waiters to get a refill. At least there was no shortage of drinks. They knew where the money came from, didn't they? Meanwhile, Lockhart continued loudly,

"Without further ado," He raised his arm, gesturing to the door right from the table. "heeeeere comes Parsel luv!"

Music thrummed from the speakers, the bass shaking up Hermione's whole body. The crowd cheered while a deep frown appeared on her brow. Another act? Apparently, a popular one, judging by the women's enthusiastic yells. _Geez_ , Hermione sighed in annoyance and took a gulp of her new drink, almost downing the whole thing.

The curtain by the door was parted and through stepped a dark-haired man. Hermione wasn't paying much attention and boredly swirled her drink with the straw. Through the corners of her eyes, she saw how the stripper jumped on the table with cat-like grace.

A charming smile curled his lips as the dark-haired man bowed deep to his audience, making a few of the women swoon. Hermione rolled her eyes at their crazy antics. Unenthusiastically, she watched as the man straightened up again. Still smiling attractively, he started to moved his body to the music.

Now that Hermione really payed him attention, she was strangely captivated by this man. Her eyes followed his graceful movements and she had to swallow dryly. Hermione had to admit, this man was _hot_. Quite hot, yes. She licked her lips, eyes trained on the man. He wasn't like the other strippers she'd seen in the club. Their tanned bodies were overly brawny, muscles looking like balloons that were inflated so much they might pop any second. Not so this man. He was tall and slim, certainly not weedy, though. Hermione could see wiry muscles stretching underneath his clothes. Deliciously, a white shirt and black trousers tightly hugged his form. A loose tie casually hung from his neck and Hermione caught herself wishing to reach for that tie and pull the unknown man down to her.

Mesmerised by the man, Hermione let her eyes wander over him until they reached his face. Her breath caught. Strong jaw-line, high cheekbones, he was flawlessly beautiful. Every curve, every angle was formed to perfection as if that handsome face was the final masterpiece of a famous sculptor. His shiny dark hair was gelled back, like a model from a 1940s catalogue. Still a few strands of hair dared to escape and casually hung into his face, enhancing his beauty. His lips were turned upwards into an intoxicating smile that seemed to draw Hermione in. The whistles and cheers of the other women dropped into the background and she had eyes only for that man.

 _Parsel luv?_

His body moved to the music as if he'd been born to dance. Long thin fingers elegantly brushed over his chest. Hermione released a low hiss of a breath as those elegant fingers started to undo the shirt buttons. Like entranced, she watched as more and more of Parsel's broad chest came into view. Almost, Hermione opened her mouth to cheer him on. Blushing slightly, she sipped from her drink, never taking her eyes from Parsel. His shirt now hung open, allowing her to feast on the sight of his chiselled chest. If only she could run her fingers over those firm pectorals, down to perfectly worked abs and- Hermione swallowed as she spotted the happy trail leading from his belly button down until it disappeared into the waistband of his black trousers. A hot feeling was swelling inside her, dropping down into her stomach and lower still. Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as Parsel finally slipped out of his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Now naked from the waist up, he danced and Hermione's eyes were glued to his perfect body.

Guiltily, she glanced to her friends and was quite relieved to see that they were still sitting at one of the other tables. Ginny now cheered on a stripper who was busy dancing for an embarrassed looking Padma. Hermione's attention shifted back to _her_ stripper. Parsel still gracefully danced to the music, dark hair glinting seductively in the dim light, and Hermione suddenly felt the need to jump on the stage. She wanted to grab him by the arm and wrench him off the platform, away from the other women's gazes, so she could have him all to herself …so she could do _things_ to him. Delicious, dirty things. A shaky breath fell from Hermione's trembling lips. _H- how ridiculous_ , she decided and yet her heart hammered in her chest. The hot feeling still burned between her legs and Hermione shifted in her seat.

Parsel twisted his perfect body to the music. An enticing smile revealed his white teeth and he raised his arm. Hermione watched as Parsel snapped his fingers and his magic stormed around him. It ripped at his trousers and Hermione's eyebrows shot up as the magic torturously slowly ate away from the black fabric. More and more of Parsel's bare skin was revealed and Hermione felt her blood starting to boil with awakening passion. Soon his trousers were gone, with it his shoes and socks.

The thrums still thudded from the speakers and Parsel's body moved to the music, firm muscles working under pale skin in an almost hypnotic manner. A flush of hot desire hit Hermione hard as her gaze wandered over the last piece of clothing he wore. The skimpy dark green pants were adorned with lacy ornaments. It was as Hermione spotted a tiny little green ribbon sewn to the front that she realized Parsel was wearing women's knickers. This wasn't really something she'd ever thought of but seeing Parsel like this made raw lust consuming Hermione, driving away all rational thought.

Her hand itched to pull her wand. Easily, she could catch Parsel and apparate with him away. A soft groan fell from Hermione's lips. First thing, she'd rip those provocative knickers from his body. Then she'd have her way with him. She'd run her fingers all over his lovely pale skin, cherishing it. And she wouldn't allow him to escape until she'd completely ravished him.

Dirty, arousing pictures entered Hermione's mind and lust pooled in her stomach. That man was driving her crazy. The thin knickers really left not much to the imagination. She greedily licked her lips as her eyes travelled over the large bulge in the green fabric. Parsel moved his hips to the music as he danced over to one of the other women. Hermione watched as he leaned down, devastatingly beautiful smile playing around his lips, and brushed his fingers over the woman's cheek. Hermione was hit by an irrational feeling of jealousy. The blonde woman stiffened, eyes glazed over, and a stupid smile appeared on her face. Hermione couldn't even blame her. Parsel winked at her and the blonde melted into a happy puddle.

It was as he bent up again and his eyes shortly flashed in Hermione's direction that it hit her like a ton of bricks. For a moment she could do nothing but stare with wide eyes at Parsel. It couldn't be, could it?

Incredulously, she watched him dance in that enticing way of his. No. No, that wasn't possible …was it? The black hair and pale skin _were_ familiar. Hermione hadn't seen that face in seven years, but now she remembered. In disbelief, she stared at those startlingly grey eyes. It was them that had finally given him away. Hermione had seen those eyes before. Back then, though, she'd never noticed how beautiful they were. Her hand tightened around her cocktail glass, almost to the breaking point, and her incredulous lips formed the words,

 _Tom Riddle?_

Thoughts swirling like crazy, Hermione stared at the dark-haired man and memories boiled up in her.

 _Hermione's frizzy hair stood up from her head in odd angles. Her uniform shirt was crinkled and her school bag hung hazardously from her shoulder as she walked at a fast pace through Hogwarts' corridors. She hadn't realized it was this late already. After ten. She'd missed dinner and hadn't even noticed. Feeling frustrated, she ignored her empty stomach as she jogged towards Gryffindor tower. NEWTs were coming up. Only a few weeks and that was it. Over. In the name of Merlin, Hermione wasn't ready at all. What if she failed Transfiguration? It was possible. Professor McGonagall's class was difficult._

 _Hermione nervously worried her lower lip. What about Potions, though? Snape hated her. She'd fail that for sure. Or Ancient Runes. She hadn't learned nearly enough. Cold as ice, panic rushed through her. Oh, no. Hermione tugged at her curly hair anxiously. She shouldn't have taken so many classes. She'd fail each and every one. There simply was no_ _time_ _. What would her parents say? Merlin, she couldn't even go back into the Muggle world when she failed all her NEWTs. She'd have neither a graduation in the Wizarding World nor in the Muggle world. What would happen to her then? Hermione groaned fearfully._

 _Maybe she should go back to the library? She didn't need to sleep_ _every_ _night, did she?_

 _Panicky thoughts knotting up her mind, Hermione wasn't prepared at all as a smooth voice cut through the silence of Hogwarts' abandoned corridors,_

" _Ms Granger," that silky voice said. "Out after curfew, I see?"_

 _Hermione startled violently and whirled around. She almost hissed in frustration as she spotted the Head Boy, flanked by two other Slytherins, Avery and Nott. Ug. Just her luck. Her nose crinkled in distaste. Hermione had no patience to deal with Tom Riddle at this moment. Angrily, she watched as Riddle arrogantly stalked over to her, smug smirk on his face._

" _I'm very sorry," Riddle lied. "but I'll have to take five points from Gryffindor because you broke curfew."_

 _His grey eyes shortly skimmed over Hermione's form, halting at her rumpled uniform and unkempt hair. Disdain washed over Riddle's handsome face and Hermione tugged her black robe tighter around herself, feeling insecure. Of course, Riddle looked perfect as ever, impeccably dressed in Hogwarts' school uniform. Hermione glared at him angrily and snapped,_

" _What about your friends, then?" She gestured at Avery and Nott standing behind Riddle. "They're not allowed out after curfew either."  
_

 _Riddle smirked at her darkly. "Maybe I already took points from them."_

 _Somehow Hermione doubted that. Irately, her eyes wandered over the smirking faces of Avery and Nott. Through gritted teeth, she fumed,_

" _Look, Riddle. I was in the library, okay? I simply forgot the time."_

" _Oh?" Riddle cocked a derisive eyebrow. "Whatever were_ _you_ _doing in the library this late?"_

" _Studying," Hermione growled, temper peaking. "NEWTs are coming up."_

 _A melodious laugh fell from Riddle's lips. Then he told her, scorn dripping from his every word, "I don't even know why you try. Do you really think a Mudblood could ever be able to compete with Purebloods."_

 _His hurtful words cut into her and Hermione's hands balled into fists. She still couldn't believe someone like Riddle had been made Head Boy. He was a creep. Anger flaring up in her, Hermione snarled fiercely,_

" _I can! I'm certainly better than_ _you_ _."_

 _Avery's face distorted into an angry snarl as if she'd just now insulted him and not Riddle._

" _Shut up, Mudblood!" Avery growled furiously._

 _Hermione stiffened as Nott reached for his robe pocket. He wouldn't pull his wand, would he? Only now, Hermione realized how dangerously alone she was right now. A small wave of Riddle's hand and Nott stopped his actions. Hermione's attention wandered from his cronies back to the Head Boy. Riddle scanned her through cold grey eyes. His face gave nothing away, but Hermione could feel his powerful magic bristling around him. She shuddered as the force wrenched at her irately. What was_ _wrong_ _with these people? Hermione knew Riddle was an incredibly strong wizard, but he was Head Boy, he wouldn't attack her, right? Ice cold chills ran up and down her spine._

" _You're a Mudblood, Granger", Riddle hissed at her, vicious smirk sharpening his features. "You'll never beat me at anything. Remind me, what was the mark you got in the last practical test in DADA?"  
_

 _Hermione glowered at him darkly and Riddle's smirk widened sadistically. "An E, wasn't it?" He shook his head in mock pity. "How embarrassing. I thought the test was quite easy, you know. Got an O myself."_

 _Riddle stepped closer to her, grey eyes boring into her. With an air of disdain, he scanned her. The Head Boy was quite a bit taller than Hermione and his magic still crackled around him aggressively. She jutted her chin in defiance, refusing to be intimidated, and glared up at him._

" _You're inadequate." Like poison Riddle's words etched into her. "Deep down, you know I'm right. It doesn't matter how much work you put into school or how many spells you memorize, you'll always fail."_

 _The Slytherin bent down to her and Hermione flinched as he whispered into her ear, the cruel words dancing off his tongue, "Hermione Granger, you will_ _never_ _be good enough."_

 _She stiffened under his harsh words. Suddenly, her eyes burned but Hermione refused to let the tears fall. Riddle stepped away from her. She hated how his grey eyes burned in sick triumph._

That particular memory sure wasn't a very pleasant one, but it didn't really bother Hermione anymore. She had proven his cruel words to be empty. Hermione had grown out of her school girl insecurities. Pursing her lips in contemplation, she leaned a bit forward in her seat, staring at Parsel. Or _Riddle_ , wasn't it? His body still gracefully moved to the music, naked except for those green knickers. Now and then Riddle allowed one of the women to push a note into the elastic band of the knickers and would give them an extra performance. Hermione's eyes burned up with gleeful amusement, never leaving Riddle, and a sleazy smirk formed on her face.

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	2. Chapter 2

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 _Oh, Merlin. No. No no. Not good. Shit._

Tom almost missed a beat as he danced to the music. His body was on autopilot and he wasn't putting much thought into his performance anymore. The seductive smile on his face didn't come so easy anymore. Tom knelt down and allowed one of the women to slip a folded note into the hem of his pants. Mechanically, he threw the woman a kiss and barely registered how she turned into a pile of giggles.

 _Shit. Shit. Damn._

He cautiously glanced in _her_ direction. Oh Merlin, she was still there. _Shit_. It wasn't _really_ her, though, was it? Shortly, Tom allowed himself to nurture a tiny hint of hope. The music still thudded and he danced. Another turn, another twist, and he could risk another glance at her. The slim woman lounged on one of the chairs. He hadn't noticed her at first, but now his whole attention was glued to her. Her gaze on him burned like fire. The woman had long frizzy hair, that she'd failed to tame with a pony tail, and was dressed in a halter-neck top and teal skirt. There was a pink badge pinned to her top. Obviously, she was part of a hens party. Many of those came to the club. The woman's chocolate eyes bored into Tom, never leaving him. The worst, though, was the smug, knowing smirk that curled her full lips. Tom's last rest of hope shrivelled up and died.

It _was_ her.

 _Hermione Granger._

As that realization dawned on him, Tom felt his face heating up and he knew he was blushing fiercely. Why? Why her? Why here? _Damn. Dammit! Fuck!_ He desperately wanted to leave. Feeling disgustingly shaky, Tom's gaze longingly wandered to the door to the change rooms. Maybe he could cut this short?

As if she'd been reading his thoughts, amusement glistened in Granger's eyes and she casually raised her arm. Tom sucked in a sharp breath of air as he spotted a folded note held between her index and middle finger. Her gaze clashed with his and she cocked her eyebrows in a challenging manner while a gleeful smirk hung from her lips. _'I dare you'_ , Tom could almost hear her voice mocking him.

He really didn't want to.

Gritting his teeth angrily, Tom still followed her call. He wasn't one to back down. The music played loudly and the women cheered him on. Tom barely heard anything. There were only Granger's eyes on him. The woman lazily lounged in her chair, watching him expectantly as he stepped over to her. Unfortunately, she sat right in the front row at the stage, close enough to touch. Allowing his body to flow with the music, Tom sank down on his knees, directly before that infernal woman. His thighs were spread and he arched his back, using his left arm to lean back on. With the thrums of the bass, he moved his hips, thrusting them up and down. He was pretty sure he was giving Granger quite the show and he couldn't help it as again a flush of heat hit his face. Hiding his embarrassment behind an attractive smile, Tom bent up from his arched position.

Instantly, he was trapped in Granger's gaze. The woman's lips formed a sharp smirk and her eyes never left his as she reached for him. Tom felt her fingers skimming over his belly, teasing along the waistband of his pants. He had to hold himself back or he would've shuddered under her intimate touch. Her fingers gently hooked under the elastic band of the pants and pulled the fabric away from him. The smirk still tugged at the corners of her lips as Granger pushed a twenty pound note into his pants. Gingerly, she released the elastic band and patted his hip.

Feeling thoroughly humiliated, Tom stood up from his kneeling position. Before he could finally get away from the woman, Granger blew him a kiss, her eyes burning with glee.

ooOOHGTROOoo

Tom was never gladder to get out of his stage clothes. Gratefully, he slipped into his boxer shorts. Then he reached for his distressed jeans. He carefully pulled his black T-shirt into place before he left the changing rooms and stepped back into the guest area of the club.

All he wanted to do was leave and forget this night ever happened. Unfortunately, he couldn't just run away from this. Narrowing his eyes, he let his gaze wander over the club. It wasn't long and he spotted a head of curly hair by the bar. Burrowing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he reluctantly trudged over to the bar. Lips pressed into a thin line, Tom slid into the seat beside Granger. The woman didn't even look up from her glass. Still, he could hear the grin in her voice as she greeted,

"Parsel luv."

"Granger," Tom spat out.

She only laughed as she heard the irritation in his tone. Then she gestured for the barkeep to bring Tom a glass of whatever she was having. For a moment, they sat in silence. Granger calmly sipping from her drink while Tom glared down at the amber liquid in his glass.

"Look," he finally pressed out, voice strained. "You can't tell anybody about this."

Granger laughed. "Are you crazy?"

She turned to him, eyes twinkling with amusement, and slipped a thin mobile from her bag to hold it up to him. Faux pity on her face, she said, "I'll tell everybody I know first thing in the morning. You can be sure of that, Mr Parsel luv."

Tom ran an irritated hand through his hair. The scorn on Granger's face made his stomach twist into knots and a heavy feeling stole over him. He glared at Granger, trying to ignore the empty feeling, and hissed,

"So what? You think this is what? A dirty job? Do you like laughing at me?"

Brown eyes flashed to him and Tom stiffened as they cut into him. Then Granger replied sternly, leaving no room for doubt, "No. I don't care what people do for a living. As long as you don't hurt anyone, it's fine by me. Nothing to be ashamed of."

At her acceptance, Tom relaxed involuntarily. In turn, this reaction she could evoke in him made his anger rush back to him. He didn't need the approval of a Mudblood. As if she'd read his thoughts, the smirk crept back on Granger's face. Innocently, she continued,

"The thing is, I know that _you're_ ashamed. Mortified even?" She looked at him, amusement hidden beneath a mask of false sympathy, and sighed, "I understand, of course. Just imagine if all your little Pureblood friends heard of this. Whatever would happen to the image of _thee_ great Tom Riddle if it came to light that he is a stripper, dancing for the amusement of Muggleborns even?" She gestured at herself, smiling widely. "Those Pureblood bigots aren't as _unprejudiced_ as I am, are they?"

 _No, they're not_. Tom's hands balled into irate fists. He certainly didn't need his followers to know about his job here. Granger laughed in his face and sipped from her drink.

"And suddenly it all comes back to me," the woman exclaimed theatrically. "You and your friends, what did you call me back in school? Hm? What was that again?"

Tom didn't reply, lips pressed into a thin angry line. Obviously, Granger didn't need his participation in the conversation. Sneering at him, she continued,

"Mudblood. That's right. That's what you all called me. Like you had the right to judge me."

She leaned over to him and Tom's breath hitched as he felt her so close by. Her curly hair fell over his shoulder and her hot breath skimmed over his skin as she whispered into his ear, voice sultry,

"That hurt, you know? Is it such a surprise that I want you to see how it feels when the same bigots now turn on their king?"

She bent away again, granting him more room. The smirk still hovered around her full lips.

"What goes around, comes around, Riddle." Granger patted his shoulder consolingly. "Say bye-bye to your reputation."

His temper flared and angry magic crackled around him. He narrowed his eyes at the girl and ordered, menacing tint seeping into his voice,

"You're not going to tell anyone. I can't let anybody know. If you don't promise to keep your big mouth shut, I'm going to curse you and then I'll obliviate you."

Granger arched her eyebrows at him and commented tonelessly, "I see." 

She didn't add more and Tom furrowed his brow in confusion. Was it that easy? He watched as Granger swiped over her mobile's display to activate it.

"What are you doing?" he inquired suspiciously.

Granger threw him a glance. A small smile curled her lips as she replied, "Well, what do you think? If you plan to obliviate me, I just have to tell everyone right now. This is my chance; I doubt you'll dare curse me here. With all those people around." Granger laughed. "You know what? I'm even gonna send myself a text. Merlin knows this is something I really do not want to forget. Ever."

Still chuckling annoyingly, she continued to type into her phone. Tom growled darkly, frustration mounting up in him. She was right, he couldn't teach the insolent Mudblood a lesson, not here.

"Okay," he hissed. "Okay. Stop. I'm not going to curse you. Just stop writing."

Granger's finger hovered over the send button and she looked at him, amusement in her brown eyes.

"How very nice of you," she said and her innocent tone was mocking him.

Completely ignoring his furious magic, Granger smiled at him widely. She tipped her index finger against her chin in contemplation. Then she mused, "I really wasn't in the mood to go out tonight. But, you see, I'm Ginny's maid-of-honour and couldn't very well skip out on her hens do." A sharp smirk split her face. "So here I was, having a drink in a strip club of all places. Now imagine my surprise as suddenly you turned up, brightening my day with that cute little outfit of yours."

Granger's brown eyes travelled over him and Tom raised a surprised eyebrow as he spotted appreciation mirrored on her face. A small teasing smile hovered around her lips and her gaze clashed with his again. In a low voice, she said,

"Say, are you still wearing those green knickers? They were quite hot."

Tom's eyes widened and to his chagrin he felt his face heat up. The smirk on Granger's face widened triumphantly and he knew he must be blushing. Never taking her eyes from his, she reached for him and brushed her fingers over his chest, lightly skimming over the fabric of his shirt. Downwards her fingers went, now dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans.

"I never understood why you were such a heartthrob during school," Granger murmured and Tom felt her fingers playfully tugging at his belt. "I gotta admit, though, that show you put on just then got me quite…" She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, voice breathy, " _hot and bothered_."

Tom swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Granger didn't immediately lean away again. He could smell her scent. Sweet and strangely exciting. Tom then felt her fingers hook under the waistband of his jeans, holding him tightly, so she could pull him decisively closer. Granger's soft lips left his ear and skimmed over his jaw-line. The touch was light, barely there, and still Tom shuddered under her ministrations. Her lips had almost reached his own and he could barely breathe. Her fat lower lip was ghosting against the corner of his mouth. The contact burned like fire and Tom was hit by the urge to tilt his face to her so he could finally capture that teasing mouth with his. Before he could do anything, though, Granger abruptly released him. Her hand left him and her enticing lips disappeared.

Granger sat comfortably back on her barstool, perfectly composed. A wide grin revealed her teeth as she contentedly eyed the ruffled look on his face. She casually held her glass in her hand, lazily swirling the amber liquid around, while her piercing eyes raked over him.

Voice hoarse, Tom whispered, "You've change since school, Granger."

A soft laugh fell from her lips. "Yes, it's been a while, hasn't it?" She raised her thin eyebrows at him and inquired, "Do you remember our last school day? I distinctly remember you enjoying to rub it in how you got _slightly_ better grades than me. DADA, if I'm not mistaken?"

Tom nodded, not seeing where she was going. Smiling slightly, Granger continued, "Tell me then, why are you doing this, Riddle?" The woman gestured at the club's interior. "You could have got any job you wanted. Still, the last thing I heard, you were working as a shopboy in Knockturn Alley. What happened?"

Banning all embarrassment from his tone, Tom replied, "I still work at Borgin and Burkes. But this pays quite well and I got to save some money."

Granger frowned at him and prodded, "For what?"

Tom shrugged and explained, "I plan to travel a bit. Mostly eastern Europe. And I need some money for that. You know international Floo isn't exactly cheap and I still need a bit to travel around there."

"I see," Granger allowed.

Then she seemed to mull that over for a while, now and then taking a sip from her drink. The silence stretched between them until Tom broke it again,

"What do I have to do to make you forget this ever happened?" 

Granger's eyes wandered back to him. The teasing grin re-appeared on her face and she pursed her lips in contemplation. "You know this is golden, right? This is gonna cost you."

Tom sighed tiredly. "What do you want?"

"Hm-hm, what do I need?" Granger wondered, the innocent streak in her voice destroyed by the smirk on her face.

Tom narrowed his eyes at her in irritation. He only managed to widen that grin on her face. Finally, Granger brightened up and exlaimed, "I thought of something. You know Ginny and Harry are going to marry this weekend, right?"

"So what?" Tom growled.

Granger smiled at him toothily. "I want you to come with me to the wedding," she told him. "As my plus one."

For a moment, Tom blinked at her in confusion. Then he inquired, "What about Weasel King? Isn't he your boyfriend anymore?" 

At the mention of Weasley's name a dark shadow crossed Granger's face. In a tight voice, she said, "No. He isn't." She glared at Tom. "Are you gonna do it or what?"

At her sharp tone, Tom raised his hands in clemency. "Geez, okay. I'll do it, okay. And you're going to keep silent about my little additional income?"

"Like a grave." The dark look dropped from her face and Granger again smiled at him. She offered him her hand to shake on it. "But only if you're gonna be the perfect date. Don't let your usual toxic personality shine through."

"Toxic personality…" Tom grumbled. He glanced at her and, seeing no other option, caved in, "Okay, then."

He raised his hand and shook hers. Granger smiled at him sweetly and _'deal with the devil'_ came to his mind.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


End file.
